Confessions
by ILoveNeil
Summary: James and Juliet before their romantic relationship began. Takes place during their stay in Dharmaville.


Confessions (Juliet's POV)

_**I haven't been on here in ages. Maybe a year. But I thought of this quick one-shot (maybe multi-chapter?) that I figured I'd post. Hope you enjoy it, although it's rather short.**_

Propping my weight against a newly repaired van, my eyes trailed after James who was arguing with Phil off in the distance. Each movement he made, my sight mechanically followed against my brain's insistent commands otherwise. It wasn't stalking. It was just casually observing the (highly attractive) man that just so happened to be in my line of vision.

James was currently flailing his arms, outraged, as his freshly chopped hair swayed, and his glasses threatened to tip off of the bridge of his nose. He always hated wearing the lenses, up until I foolishly made a comment about how dignified, and even cute, he looked with them on. After that, he wore them as much as possible as if was his life's goal to make me uncomfortable, saying, "Is the nerd look what does it fer ya', Blondie? 'Cause I'll get me a pocket protector if that's what turns ya' on".

Caught up with my memories, I didn't realize his unzipped suit and clamped fists were getting closer and closer until I heard his booming voice begin to complain.

"Damn Jackass," he grumbled to the air. "And I thought Miles was the biggest moron 'round."

Rising from my makeshift bench, I soothingly asked, "What happened this time?"

"Phil-of-shit thinks he's the goddamn king of Dharma land. I swear, H givin' him that Head a' Security job was the worst decision he coulda' ever made."

"Well, from what Amy tells me, Horace is thinking about putting the job in other hands," I thoughtlessly informed, completely disregarding my 'others' training in secret keeping.

"Son of a bitch," he smirked, his typically somber catch phrase accompanied with a bark of delighted laughter. "Phil's getting' the boot?"

"It's not definite yet," I mumbled, attempting to sweep up the mess of my inconsiderate confession. "Don't let it get around. Amy trusted me not to tell a soul."

"And here I was, thinkin' you were Miss perfect. But Babbling Barbie can't even keep a lil' secret."

"I'm too busy keeping another pretty big one."

'_**Two**__ pretty big ones'_ my mind corrected. Of course there was the entire time traveling chaos that ironically led to the most normal life possible for the group of us. But there was another hidden confession that I kept locked away from even James. _Especially_ James.

"What's that?" he asked, feigning ignorance to our unusual situation. "That you got a huge ass crush on a smooth talkin' southerner?"

_That hit the nail right on the head._

"James, I say this with all due respect, but I'd rather kiss Amy than you."

"Can't say I'd disapprove a' that." He winked before returning to our previous conversation. "H got any idea a' who's gonna replace the reject?"

"When she spoke to me, she said it was down to two candidates," I carefully explained. "One of which was Miles."

"I ain't never gonna hear the end of it if he becomes ma' boss," James fussed with a sour look plastered onto his stubble sprinkled face. "What the hell? He ain't even been here that long."

"Apparently Horace thinks someone fresh will make for a good change of pace. _But_ I mentioned that I didn't think Miles was qualified for the job. I told her that the other possible choice would be a far better one."

"Please say it ain't Jinbo. Like 'em, but I need goddamn subtitles to understand 'em."

"The person who gets the job should be responsible. Head of Security manages the entire village and has to assure everyone's safety. They have to be serious about the work they're doing. They have to be dedicated," I listed off, aware of the many obligations the job entailed. "That's why I said it should be you."

The tooth bearing smile that spanned his face was short lived. Awkward silence substituted his predicted bloating before he timidly questioned, "Ya' know how, when we first got here, ya' wanted to run security with the guys?"

I slowly nodded, curious as to why he was bringing up the year old situation at such an arbitrary moment. My voice flat, I recalled, "Horace didn't allow me, because the motor pool was running short."

"Yeah, well, that ain't exactly the truth," he confessed as he uncomfortably rubbed at the back of his neck. "H was gonna let us all work together. But I told him I didn't want ya' to."

"Why?"

"It was right after the whole almost-gettin'-burned-by-flaming-arrows-and-nearly-getting'-yer-arm-cut-off thing an' I . . . I just didn't think ya' should have'ta deal with any more hostile stress."

I corrected my previously misunderstood question. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"I ain't never been good at nothing but hurtin' people. But this promotion'll help me save 'em. Plus, I'd get to see the look on Phil's face when I steal that title away. He'll be pissed," he chuckled; his explanation his personal way of apologizing for treating me poorly when, in his mind, I'd been nothing but good to him.

"I'm not angry that you're the reason I'm stuck working on vans all day, James. I actually enjoy it."

"So then it's good I done what I done?"

I nodded. "Besides, if we worked together, we'd be tired of one another in no time."

"I'd never get sick a' lookin' at that body," he genuinely disagreed as he scanned my half undone jumpsuit. "But lemme tell ya', I like the grease. It's a good style fer ya'."

"While I'm thrilled you like the looks of me covered in oil, it feels disgusting," I revealed. "My shift's over, and I think I breached Amy's trust enough for one day. I'm off to take a shower."

"Built up some sweat arguin' with Phil. I better go take one, too," he suggestively stated. "And you know what they say? Shower together, die—"

"Not happening."

"Can't stop me from picturin' it. Both of us together. You completely naked. And me with nothin' on but ma' fogged up, nerdy glasses ya' go crazy over."

"Goodbye, James."


End file.
